In the wake of World War II, a great darkness began to descend over the Eastern seaboard. The delicate balance of good and evil, kine and supernatural, began to wane and the hand of the Sabbat grabbed tightly to those who returned, destitute, from war. Their nature matched with the violent thoughts of those that returned (and those who remained but whose loved ones did not return). The packs could offer not only jobs, but an outlet for their rage and helplessness. The Sabbat proceeded to dupe and sire a group of men en masse, creating an almost unstoppable Sabbat force.

As the 1940s moved into the 50s and the American economy continued to thrive, the Sabbat's coffers grew full, and their monetary stranglehold choked any notion of free will not only from Ravenhurst but from neighboring cities and states. The entire region cowered under the iron fist. The Sabbat incorporated and went legit, creating companies that held an absolute monopoly on local business. Ties to organized crime sucked up any remains that the legitimate guise would not suffer. The Sabbats Control was absolute ….its was a long and bloody season.

Over the next half-century the battle came and went like the tide. Moments of peace existed only in the lethal silence that came after those that rose against the Sabbat were choked out. The Sabbat regime was surrounded on all sides by enemiesboth live and deadbut all solitary efforts had failed and they persisted.

1999 came, and the face of the world, of culture and thought is changed with a horrific war cry. ..once again, the war regime began its chant.
National security was their rallying cry, and the Camarilla was able to advance again, entirely unchecked.

Innocents were thrust unwarranted, and though the Sabbat tried to swell their ranks to defend themselves, neonates met a vicious trial by fire. Perhaps it was their arrogance, their complacency, but to the many eyes upon the city, Ravenhurst had become a poster child for violence, a haven for the corrupt and vile. And it was rumored to be sanctuary to those that may have perpetrated the most heinous act of this century. The very mention of the city struck fear in the hearts of even the least repentant criminal.

Ravenhurst's cavalier disregard for the Laws had not gone unnoticed by the Camarilla's inner circle, and as the mighty city systematically fell into greater chaos than usual, the charge fell upon the Justicars to remedy this hive of unchecked kindred once and for all. Thusly, they ushered in a decade of unmitigated war. The time had come and one by one they were called: the seers, the seekers, the mighty and the wise… entrusted to draw a new Ravenhurst from the ashes. And one was chosen to lead them, an iron hand of fate to gently guide—or tear asunder those that would stand in the way of the peace and quiet subterfuge that veils the wilds of those of a more… composed… supernatural sort.

The present abounds with possibility as the righteous are set in motion with the charge of their Justicars. And the are set against the fury of a once-great empire that vows to remain unmoved. This ever-growing struggle continues relentlessly to seek once again the balance that older days allowed, to veil those of power in shadow and quiet those that would reveal the secrets of blood and the ages. In order to reclaim the city for the world, to tuck away those truths that simply cannot be abided in public view, WE must continue the businesses built by other hands, on the backs of entirely different purposes. Is it possible to quell the ever-pressing uprising of lingering enemies without the brutal vicious games that kept them so ordered? Would they see this shining city thrust back into its dark viciousness, or bring a new brilliant viciousness with the dawn? Can we live so undetected amongst the Kine, who are so accustomed to seeing the monsters in their midst?